


The Wrong Kind of Blue

by Dariaday



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Has anyone done this yet?, Sexual Content, hopefully this is creepy, non-traditional pairing, not my usual fandom but
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-23 00:42:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11391810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dariaday/pseuds/Dariaday
Summary: 5x01. Exploring the end of the episode when Felicity goes home to her loft apartment. A remix.





	The Wrong Kind of Blue

It was a long day. A long day, with lots of internal screaming about how infuriating Oliver Queen is. Was. Would ever be. Felicity felt her shoulders drop as soon as the elevator doors opened and the cool silence of the penthouse lobby overtook her senses. He was being stubborn about the wrong things. Refusing to find and train a new team. Ignoring the demons that still chased him, sticking his head in the sand and calling it the sky. _That’s all_ , her mind supplied, but “all” was not going to keep the city safe at night. And if she could pick one out of the three…one area for Oliver to fix and heal and thrive in…it had to be the city. Every time, she’d pick the millions of people that were brave enough—crazy enough—to call Star City their home. 

It would never equal Havenrock, but nothing ever would. Nothing. 

Ever.

Felicity kicked off her heels and collapsed more than decided to sit on the couch. She blew out a breath of air and stretched her neck, confident that at least she’d picked a couple of areas of her own for improvement. She might still wake up screaming about Damien Darhk, but she wasn’t standing still. She was using her lavish “don’t sue us and we won’t sue you” severance pay from Palmer Tech to give her time to sketch out her own inventions. STARLabs was trading her computer upgrades and cybersecurity for Cisco’s engineering of the bunker. She called her mom at least weekly. She was moving forward, if not moving on, and at the end of a long, long, long day, at least she knew she had someone to share it with.

“Hey, beautiful.”

Felicity’s lips twitched despite herself. “Hey.”

Strong, cool hands smoothed over her shoulders and dug into the tight muscles. She groaned and dropped her head back against the couch, turning it to see the twinkle in her boyfriend’s eyes. He knew his hands were magic. She’d told him so, embarrassingly in front of a couple of his work friends at the drop-in rec center they all volunteered at on Saturday mornings. And she’d meant _because basketball_ , not because sex. But the teenagers were the ones to laugh first and so she’d had to give in, had to join them and roll her eyes and apologize quickly when his lips found her temple. 

“Doesn’t bother me if it’s true,” he’d said, smacking his hand against the ball and grinning like a loon. 

Her new boyfriend smiled, and called her beautiful, and introduced her to his friends and freaking volunteered with at-risk youth? Of course she was a fucking goner. And, you know. Magic hands. 

“Felicity,” he whispered. His low voice made her shiver. “Wanna trade long days?”

“I totally win,” she said, nearly slurring her words she was so tired. And then she realized—she couldn’t share her day. Couldn’t share the Mayor’s secret, with anyone.

Especially with the man who knelt behind her, stroking her collarbones with his thumbs. 

“But you go first,” she said magnanimously. 

He dropped a kiss on her neck, lingering over her pulse point.

“It always ends in a draw with you,” he said, his voice soft, teasing. Sweet. He continued kissing her neck, one hand slipping into the top of her blue dress. 

Felicity arched into his touch, eager to feel pleasure instead of frustration. The way he’d known how to bring her to ecstasy so soon after they got together was nothing short of a miracle—he was brilliant and amazing in bed and fuck all if she didn’t give as good as she got. That part didn’t faze her. It was fun. The part that snuck into her nightmares was the part where she wanted more than quiet nights at home and after school specials. She was starting to feel things…that she’d shelved a long time ago. Ghosts ago. Explosions ago. 

“You’re thinking too hard,” he chided, stroking a fingertip softly between her eyes, down her nose. Dropped it onto her lips and pressed firmly enough for her to dart her tongue out and lick the tip of his finger. 

“Am not,” Felicity said when he traced that finger down her chin, pressing in slightly at the hollow of her throat. 

“It’s okay, I’m not in a hurry.”

He was never in a hurry, unless she wanted him to be, and even then, he knew somehow. He knew when she didn’t want foreplay and needed the hard wall against her back. Knew when she just needed to sink into white-hot oblivion and scream the building down around them both. 

And he knew she hated the feelings that started to pile up every time they lost themselves in each other, but he was patient, he wasn’t intimidated. 

He said she was worth waiting for.

He kissed her then, one hand still playing with her breast, rubbing her nipple through her bra, the other braced on the couch. It wasn’t the best angle, but Felicity loved kissing—loved it, could make an entire meal of it—and needed to lose herself in something other than the long fucking day. So she almost missed when he shifted his grip on the couch and vaulted over, landing softly and easily on his knees in front of her as carefully as if he’d done nothing but walked around. 

“Ninja much?” she laughed, reaching for him. 

He caught her legs and swung them out from under her, positioning them on either side of his chest. Felicity bit her lip, half because she hoped her feet didn’t smell too bad and half because she could feel the warmth beneath his t-shirt, knew the muscles that would cradle and support her. He leaned up, kissing her lips and sliding his hands up her thighs, taking her skirt with them.

“Let me,” he said, his smile fading from his lips. Intensity sparked in his blue eyes, burning a path all the way to his soul. “I want to taste you.”

Felicity nodded, sinking back into the cushions, her heart racing. Already she was devising a plan to ravish him right on the floor once he was done making her scream. Something with a nice, one-way view of the city they both served. Something to make him forget about eating healthy so they’d order takeout and make love again, maybe even in bed this time. 

It didn’t take long. He watched her while he slipped two fingers inside her wet sheath, triumph in his eyes when he immediately hit the spot to make her breath catch. Watched her while he pumped them in and out, watched her while he used the other hand to pull her hips down to the edge of the couch, spreading her wide. 

“Easy,” he coached as she writhed. “Trust me, baby.”

And Felicity closed her eyes, because of course there was no way he’d know that those words, in that order, haunted her almost more than anything Damian Darhk had wrought.

She came almost as soon as he put his mouth on her; came so hard she forgot to cry out, bucking in silence under the ministrations of his hand, his tongue. He pulled her down into his lap, wrapping her tight in his arms, laughing away her apologies about how trigger-quick she’d been, praising her for being sexy as fuck and the best thing about his day.

“You’re the best thing about mine, too,” Felicity said, and it wasn’t even a lie. 

“And I suppose now you want the day to end with Chinese food,” he said, letting her push him down onto his back. He folded his arms beneath his head and smiled as she straddled him. 

“If you’re good I’ll pick sushi,” Felicity promised. She didn’t even wait to undress him—she couldn’t, she didn’t have his patience or his stamina and even when she picked a normal joe instead of a frakking superhero, she still managed to pick a sex god, not that she was complaining, but when she got his buckle undone and the leather edges of his belt finally out of their first loops, when she got her hands on him, she still had to pause for a moment and take it all in. All of it. 

“Felicity…” he begged as she raised up on her knees, heady with power. 

She dropped down, taking him to the hilt. He bucked underneath her, and tightened his hands into fists, and the cords in his neck stood out, and watching him gather up his control was almost better than watching him come apart. 

He didn’t last much longer than she had. He let her ride out both their orgasms, bracing her, telling her exactly what he was feeling and how good she was doing and there was a rasp to his voice, like he couldn’t even believe he was telling her these things, like he’d hate for the world to know he was such a sap, but couldn’t help it. Felicity stayed sitting up, her skirt puddled around where they were joined, trying to catch her breath. 

“Later,” he panted. “Later, I promise.”

“Promise what?”

He grinned, and she laughed, delighting in the fact that he was being cheeky about Round Two (upstairs, in bed, after dinner) and the knowledge that it was the first time all day that she’d laughed. 

“Starting to really want to say your name outside these walls, Felicity.”

“I know your friends, I met your—”

“Not what I meant, Felicity.” He gripped her hips, not hard, just enough to keep her in place. “I want to meet your friends. I want to meet you for lunch. Want to have dinner in the park across from the courthouse and wave at every single coworker who walks by and introduce you like it’s no big deal, no big deal at all that this smart, beautiful woman’s spending time with me.”

She sighed. His serious features eased into a smile and he slid his palms down her thighs. 

“Just keeping it on the table.”

Felicity placed her hands on his chest and tilted her head.

“I have a friend—an old coworker, Curtis? And his husband Paul, he’s my physical therapist, actually, and they like this farm to table place on Lasco Street. Maybe we could meet them for dinner?”

“Farm to table, in Star City? Sounds intriguing. Like, actual farms? Or that weird genetic engineered corn field we found near the sinkhole?”

Felicity laughed. 

“Naw, I’m in. Set it up.”

She bit her lip again, torn with indecision. 

“Felicity, I mean it. I would be honored to meet your friends. Whenever you’re ready.”

Felicity leaned down and kissed him. She lingered. He noticed. He rolled them over, still inside her, and braced himself over her, stroking a stray wisp of hair off her forehead. 

“I want to make you happy,” he whispered. “You deserve to be happy.”

“Adrian…”

He thrust into her, hard, making her gasp. 

“I told you,” he said, locking eyes with her as he stoked the fire within her into flame again. “I’m not in a hurry. We can take all night.”

Long day, long night—Felicity lifted her hips, and lost herself in his eyes. 

Blue, but not the ones she thought she’d have forever.

She was starting to like it.


End file.
